


Four Times Foiled

by kailthia



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidental Cockblocking, Canon-Compliant, Canonical Character Death, M/M, drunk!Ori looking out for his family, skirting the fourth wall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:01:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kailthia/pseuds/kailthia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Nori and Dwalin want is some privacy, but Bilbo and Thorin are always seeming to get in the way. Also, I'm sorry about the angst. I wanted this to be entirely fluffy/smutty, but then it went angsty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Foiled

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Blue_Sparkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Sparkle/gifts).



> This is for Blue_Sparkle (http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/) whose work got me into Dwalin/Nori.

  1. **Beorn’s**



The stop at Beorn’s hall was a welcome one. Everyone was injured, hungry, tired, and generally in poor spirits – the journey through the Misty Mountains had taken a lot of out the Company of Thorin Oakenshield. All members of the aforesaid company were grateful to have an opportunity for some well-deserved rest and relaxation.

            The first two days at Beorn’s were spent by all in a fugue of sleep, punctuated at intervals by the consumption of excessive amounts of food and the treatment of injuries. By the third day, everyone was moderately recovered, a state that was evidenced in a variety of ways. Gear was replaced and repaired, the warriors of the Company began to spar again, the younger lads (Fíli and Kíli, usually, though they dragged in Ori when Dori wasn’t looking) started pranking again, the company’s hobbit-burglar began to cook again. Scenes of (almost) domestic bliss.

            The growing sexual tension between the hobbit and Thorin had been the cause of much quiet discussion and a not insubstantial series of wagers – all kept carefully out of sight of the two under discussion, to avoid both accidentally tipping them off and getting the sharp end of Thorin’s tongue when he found out he was the subject of lascivious gossip.   

            Dwalin and Nori – privately lovers for almost as long as they had been antagonists professionally, guard and thief – had snuck off to the woodshed for some private time on the evening of the third day. Dwalin had been about to open the latch on the door when a long, drawn-out definitively-dwarven-in-origin moan came out from inside the small, sturdy building. Dwalin removed his hand from the door as he and Nori looked at each other.

“I thought that there weren’t any other couples on this trip?” asked Nori in a whisper.

Dwalin nodded. “As far as I know, there aren’t,” he replied softly.

Another moan, this one too high-pitched for a dwarf, accompanied by barely-discernible rumblings in Khâzdul that sounded like … Thorin?

“Bilbo and Thorin?” breathed Nori in shocked horror. “In the _woodshed_?”

Dwalin chuckled, and caught Nori’s hand, drawing the other dwarf away. “We all knew it was coming, Nori. Don’t act so surprised.”

Nori harrumphed. “I’m more angry than surprised. They beat us to the only good place for a tumble in the whole joint! There’s nowhere else even remotely private.”

Dwalin smiled and pulled Nori close. “We’ll just have to come back later. Look on the bright side – this way, we can settle our bets with the rest of the Company while they” – Dwalin gestured to the shed, which was still coming out with the occasional moan, groan, and curse – “and then have our own fun later. I know that _I_ , at least, bet on them getting their heads out of their asses before we got in sight of Erebor.”

Nori gave a deaths’-head grin. “That certainly sounds like an attractive proposition, Dwalin. Let’s go clean out our companions.”

  1. **Laketown**



The Company’s arrival at Laketown was a gift from Mahal – they were all in rough shape after the barrel ride, and their hobbit-burglar was coming down with a cold after his incredibly daring – and equably incredibly stupid – rescue plan left him riding on a barrel down the river instead of inside one. And while most of the company was reasonably recovered after a good night’s sleep and a vigorous application of Oín’s bruise ointment, their burglar managed to get quite ill. Thorin managed to fuss worse than Dori over his hobbit, which was no mean feat. The rest of the Company, while rather annoyed at Thorin’s behavior (especially Óin, who had to convince Thorin at least once an hour that Bilbo just needed time and fluids), they all understood his alarm to some degree. Dwarves were a very hardy folk, most signs of illness only appearing when the situation was dire. So they grumbled privately.

Dwalin and Nori had taken the room at the top of the staircase that lead to the sleeping quarters on the second floor of the house they’d been given. It had been chosen for a variety of reasons, but two especially – it made sure that any threat that tried to get to Thorin in the night had to get through Dwalin, and the many windows in the room gave Nori an easy back way out into the town. The size of the bed – clearly designed to be spacious even for a human couple – was a definite cincher. Dwalin kicked in his sleep, a fact which displeased Nori greatly.

After a few days, the initial euphoria of escaping the Elvenking’s halls had worn out, and the tendency of the people of Laketown to make a fuss of whichever of the dwarves left their residence was beginning to grate. So Dwalin and Nori felt that their desire to … blow off some steam … was justified. Especially considering that who knew when they could next expect to share a proper bed and some privacy, given that they were about to face a dragon?

So, one night when most of the Company were indulging heavily in the potent (if not overly flavorful) mead provided them by their hosts, Dwalin and Nori managed to avoid the worst of the booze-fest sneak away without most of their companions realizing what they were doing. Though perhaps it was in their best interests that Ori, sweet soul that he was, had stopped them from his position nearest the staircase in the large common area, grabbing Nori and tugging on his arm.

“Nori, you might” –hic- “want to not … go up t’your room t’night.” For all he was weaving as he stood, Ori seemed very intent.

Nori sighed. “Why shouldn’t I, nadad? Did Fíli and Kíli put something in my bed?”

Ori giggled. “Close! Thorin and Bilbo went upstairs ‘bout … a quarter of an hour ago? They went into your room by acci-dent, Nori.” Ori looked sorrowful. “I, I think that they were too … distracted … t’really know where they were going.” Ori looked down at his tankard, frowning when he realized it was nearly empty. “Gotta get ‘nother drink. See ya, Nori. Bye, Mister Dwalin.” Ori went off with a cheerful wave, walking towards the mead barrel in an impressively straight line for someone at his level of inebriation.

Dwalin’s shoulders sagged. He looked at Nori.

“Remind me to change the sheets in the morning, eh, thief?”

Nori nodded vigorously and sat on the lowest step, gesturing for Dwalin to join him, which he did. “Definitely. So … where are we going to sleep tonight?” 

 Dwalin considered the issue. “Well, obviously our room isn’t an option. I also wouldn’t want to use Thorin and Bilbo’s – who knows when they’re going to get back to it. You have any ideas?” Dwalin asked, looking down at Nori.

“There’s a roof garden at the end of the hall. We can make off with the blankets from Thorin and Bilbo’s room for tonight – they can’t complain after they _despoiled_ our room.”

Dwalin nodded, and stood up. “Sounds fine. Let’s go.”

They ended up having to change their sheets several times over the course of their stay in Laketown.

  1. **Erebor**



            The Company had made it inside the Mountain without any incineration of company members (though not without a few lacerations). The dragon was dead. Things were almost looking up – if one ignored the small army outside the gates, the dwindling food supplies, and the growing gold-lust facing the Company.

            This placed Dwalin and Nori in a rather uncomfortable conundrum. Nori’s particular skill-set (a significant contributor to his inclusion on the Quest in the first place) had made Thorin, riddled as he was with the gold-sickness, especially suspicious of him, though this was unfounded. Nori would not steal from his friends and companions, and with the amount of gold that would accrue to him with even a tenth of the share put out for the Company members, Nori could take away as much as all of them could carry for a century and still not have hit bottom. Yet Thorin’s suspicions remained. Dwalin found himself in the uncomfortable position of trying to negotiate between his royal kinsman and close friend and his lover. 

            It was no surprise to Dwalin when Nori approached him with a whispered suggestion of privacy. It was a slow-moving afternoon, everyone half-heartedly looking for the Arkenstone but really searching out things that interested them for more personal reasons, and Thorin was nowhere to be seen to chide them for making off somewhere for a few hours.

            Nori (being Nori) had found a semi-collapsed doorway that led to a corridor of shops off the main hall and treasure-room. It was far enough away from everyone else that they would not be noticed, but not so far that they would not be able to make their way back without much trouble. Nori had discovered some sort of tailoring-dressmaking place that had been mostly untouched (not having much in terms of valuables that would appeal to a dragon). According to the star-coiffed dwarf, a good portion of the cloth was in poor condition, enough of it should be in good condition to make a bed-like structure.

            When Dwalin and Nori reached the appropriate door, Dwalin looked around suspiciously with a look of concentration on his face. He turned to Nori.

“You know, Nori, I’m almost expecting some sort of problem with Thorin and Bilbo after all that’s gone on with us and them and timing.”

Nori nodded, his lips twisting in a smile. “Me too, I’d wonder where they are if I hadn’t seen Bilbo going off towards the kitchens about three quarters of an hou-”

A creaking noise heralded the opening of the door.

“Good afternoon, Dwalin. Nori,” came the voice of Thorin Oakenshield. Dwalin and Nori were too busy staring intently at their boots (which had suddenly become very interesting) to see the expression on the face of the leader of their company, but they both had the sense that it was one of smug satisfaction. “Were we gone for so long that Balin sent you to fetch us?”

“No, cousin, Balin didn’t send us,” said Dwalin, who had managed to reclaim some modicum of the powers of speech, in contrast to Nori, who was apparently still a little too flabbergasted at the idea of the majestic Thorin Oakenshield once again stealing his sex spots for a tumble with the halfling. “Nori and I were … just going out for a walk, and happened to go this way. We were about to go back to the main area.” Nori nodded in support.

Thorin’s eyes flicked from Dwalin to Nori, expression carefully neutral. “… Right. So you’ll have no problem coming back with Bilbo and I to help search for the Arkenstone?”

“Of course.” A thief he might be, but stupid Nori is not. “It’s no trouble.”

A touch of what might be amusement crossed Thorin’s face, but he recovered quickly, turning back into the shop, calling out into it, “Bilbo! Hurry up – Dwalin and Nori came to fetch us.”

The hobbit’s voice came out from the depths of the room. “It’s your own fault I’m taking so long, Thorin Oakenshield. If _someone_ hadn’t lobbed my weskit across the room I’d have been done ages ago. Stubborn dwarves.” Bilbo was, apparently, done, as he had made it to the doorway with all of his clothing on his person and (to the best of Dwalin and Nori’s knowledge of hobbit dress styles) only slightly rumpled. Bilbo noticed Dwalin and Nori and wrinkled his nose.

“Good afternoon, Dwalin, Nori. Let’s go if we’re going then.”

As they made their way back to the treasury, Dwalin and Nori shared a look of dismay. Perhaps they could wrangle some alone time that night?

  1. **Post-BOFA**



            They had victory, but it came at a tremendous price. Thorin and his sister-sons were dead. The mountain had been reclaimed, the dragon slain, but the new dawn foretold for the dwarves of Durin’s Folk was darkened in their eyes.

All Dwalin and Nori could do was cling to each other and their brothers in the healing tents when they heard the news. They had thrown their support behind Dain, of course – he had the strongest claim on the kingship, and with the political situation what it was, the support of the members of Thorin’s Company made a difference – but the ten surviving dwarves (and one hobbit) seemed to mostly go through the motions of living in the first few days and weeks after the battle.  

            Nori had managed to survive the battle with only minor wounds, and had recovered from those quickly. He had moved into the Mountain soon afterwards, finding a smallish suite that was close to the one that Dori and Ori were sharing. Dori had wanted both his brothers under his roof, but Nori had insisted on sharing with Dwalin once he was well enough to leave the healers’ dominions. Dwalin had been less fortunate in some respects, and more in others. He had taken moderate injuries in the battle, but had been separated from Thorin, Fíli and Kíli before the assault that had killed them, which had likely saved his life. His injuries had insured that he spend several weeks under the direct supervision of the healers, at which point they released him to Nori’s care, assuming that the thief was one of the few without other urgent duties able to keep Dwalin in bed and taking his medicine until his stitches could be taken out and broken leg had set sufficiently.

            Eventually, Dwalin had recovered sufficiently for various activities to be feasible again without bringing Oín’s wrath down upon himself and Nori (and practically the only time when people remember that Óin is a distant descendant of Durin is when one of his patients is Not Being Helpful, and Óin loses his shit). So Dwalin tells everyone that he has a day-long meeting with Balin to discuss what they’re going to do with the recently recovered family estates – Balin keeps quiet and nods, knowing that this nonexistent meeting will give him a chance to relax for once – and Nori, being Nori, just disappears for a few days and then turns up in his quarters at the appropriate time.

With a crying, distraught hobbit cuddled in to his side.

Dwalin, who had been expecting to have Nori moaning in his bed within five minutes of his arrival, recovered quickly, dressing and bringing Bilbo a plate of cookies to eat while he cries his heart out on the couch. Emotions have never been a major talking point for Dwalin and Nori, but they do what they can – hobbits are tactile, family-oriented creatures, and so having two sympathetic listeners who understand – who came close to being in a similar situation themselves – does a great deal of good. Bilbo eventually falls asleep on the couch, exhausted and empty, but feeling infinitesimally less lonely. Nori and Dwalin looked at each other over the hobbit’s form as Nori covers Bilbo with one of the knitted blankets that Dori had given them as a moving-in present. The two dwarves stared for a long moment, then broke into fits of silent laughter mixed with tears.

“Looks like Thorin and Bilbo are still getting b’tween us and a good tumble, theif,” rumbled Dwalin after the worst had passed.

Nori smiled softly, patting Bilbo on the head. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

A/N:

Nadad: brother


End file.
